


In Which Tony Acts Devilish and Clint Doesn’t Get To Eat His Pancakes

by MFLuder



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, The Avengers - Ambiguous Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Humor, M/M, Magic, Minor Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Minor Jane Foster/Thor, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 04:54:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14709456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MFLuder/pseuds/MFLuder
Summary: Loki has a little fun at the Avengers expense and Tony decides to take advantage. He can’t help it. It’s in his nature.





	In Which Tony Acts Devilish and Clint Doesn’t Get To Eat His Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted April 20, 2012, on [my DW](https://mf-luder-xf.dreamwidth.org/299995.html#cutid1). Written for the Five Acts Meme, originally [here](https://chosenfire28.livejournal.com/252669.html?thread=1486077#t1486077) for chosenfire28, for the prompt of _supernatural/paranormal_.
> 
> This also combines some comics canon references, but it's not necessary to know them to understand the fic.

Tony sits at the oversized kitchen table, cup of coffee in front of him, feet propped on another chair, and tries not to laugh. The Avengers make quite the menagerie this morning – more so than usual.

Clint is glaring down at his plate of pancakes as though they are deliberately there to taunt him, but ends up just presenting both a pathetic and amusing picture, since the glare is tempered by a hint of actual sadness considering his newly acquired beak doesn’t let him eat the same way he could yesterday. His brown-speckled wings droop in defeat as he leans forward, chin on hand and sighs.

“This sucks,” Clint says, but it comes out more like a squawk, and Tony feigns a coughing fit to cover the laugh.

“Cheer up,” Steve responds, breaking out a package of bacon from the fridge. “It’s not permanent. Besides, I don’t think hawks tend to eat bread, anyway. I think there’s a steak or two; we can take it outside where you’ll have more mobility to, err…” Steve falters. “To catch it.” He ends almost in a question, a faint blush spreading across his cheeks as he rubs the back of his neck.

“Easy for you to say, Angel Boy,” Clint snaps, glare turning on Steve. “I wanted pancakes. It’s Thursday. I always eat pancakes on Thursdays,” he whines.

“Suck it up, Bird Brain,” comes a disembodied voice by the stove. They all watch as a piece of bacon flies up from the pan, disappearing as Natasha eats it.

“Now that’s disturbing,” Bruce mutters from across the table.

Tony agrees. He thinks Loki got that one a bit wrong. Natasha was already a ninja; invisibility just made her more deadly. Maybe Loki has a crush. Or just considers her some kind of noble adversary. Who knows how the god of mischief thinks?

Then again…Tony turns back to Steve, and thinks, no, Loki has them pegged pretty well.

Steve, bright as ever – more so, considering the halo that floats about his head currently – just tsks and hurriedly makes up a plate with eggs, toast, a yogurt cup, and a few more strips of bacon, before holding it out in the general direction the last bacon strip went.

“Thank you, Steve,” Natasha says, before the plate floats over and settles next to Bruce, whose kitten ears twitch in response. Which, that in itself is pretty hilarious. Tony wonders what the Hulk would make of suddenly growing cat ears, whiskers, and – best of all – a tail. Enormous green rage monster meet cutest thing on the planet. Although even Tony has to admit cats can be devious. It is not surprising Coulson owns two.

Everyone jumps when a giant roar fills the air, Thor stumbling into kitchen finally. Tony’s own tail shoots straight up before he forces himself to relax.

As the yawn subsides, Thor booms, “Good morrow, fair friends! Are those pancakes I smell?” He shakes his head and the mane flares out – not unlike his hair normally does.

Clint dejectedly pushes the plate over, watching enviously as Thor shovels halves of pancakes into his mouth in one bite - thankfully with the fork. Thor’s tail curls around himself as he purrs contentedly, ignorant of Clint’s hawkish stare. Tony fears the damage that is going to occur when Clint is back to his normal self and can perch on tall bookshelves and hide in ceilings again. Clint is damn possessive about his breakfast food. Maybe Coulson would take him in for a few days. The agent always knew where Clint was lurking – even if it _was_ in the ceiling.

Tony is about to get up and grab a fresh cup of coffee when Steve steps in front of him, grabbing his cup.

Smiling, Tony says, “You really are an angel, Steve.” Then he winks lasciviously.

Steve rolls his eyes and tops up the mug, bringing it back. Before he can get away, Tony grabs him, pulling him down into his lap, nearly getting a face full of wing, but Steve is kind enough to shift them out of the way.

“Jesus, guys, take is somewhere else, will yah?” Clint moans, face down on the counter.

“I just can’t help myself,” Tony smirks, “it’s in my nature.”

Natasha’s voice, somewhat obscured by the sound of chewing, responds, “How long have you been waiting to use that one, Tony?”

He shrugs, trying to maintain his hold on a squirming lapful of angelic super soldier. “Probably since Loki put the whammy on us.” He grins, letting his extended canines show in Natasha’s direction. She snorts.

“The whammy?” Bruce asks, incredulous.

“Hey, I don’t do magic. Ask Strange if you want the technical term,” he responds, giving up the fight, as Steve stands up and kisses him on one of his horns before heading over to make more pancakes for the bottomless lion. “What’s on the docket for today?” Tony continues.

“I wanted to put in a little gym time if anyone is interested,” comes Natasha's voice, now from somewhere near Steve, plate seemingly floating into the industrial dishwasher.

“Yeah, I don’t think even Clint’s dumb enough to take you on invisible,” Tony replies.

“Hey…yeah, okay, true. Sorry ‘Tasha.”

Tony imagines Natasha shrugs, strutting out of the room, even as her voice fades away, “Suit yourselves! Maybe someone at SHIELD will be willing.”

It’s his turn to snort. “Good luck with that.”

Clint's cell goes off then and he answers, leaving the room with a single backward glance over his shoulder as though they were all going to follow him, his wings first trailing on the floor but perking up as he gets further away.

“Well, I for one,” Bruce states as he stands up, bringing his own plate over to Steve and the sink, “am going to take advantage of the time off Fury’s given us to get some research done. If anyone needs me, I’ll be down in Lab C.”

They all mumble their goodbyes as Bruce slinks out of the room. Hopefully, the work won’t stress Banner out. Tony prefers he Hulk out in SHIELD, not the mansion. Later, though, when he asks JARVIS how he is doing, JARVIS responds that Bruce had left the lab hours ago and has been peacefully curled up in front of a window, sleeping, ever since.

“I believe I shall see the fair Jane!” Thor nearly shouts.

“You know you can’t be seen in the city, Thor,” Steve says, clearly feeling bad about it.

“It is of no concern, friend Steve! I have already invited her and Darcy here!”

“Oh, God,” Tony mutters, putting his face in his hands. As though the Avengers in general weren’t bad enough. Thor and Darcy manage to wreak havoc enough to put any army of Doom bots to shame. Ultimately, though, he just waves Thor away and listens to the sounds of Steve starting the dishwasher. It is ridiculously domestic. The halo just makes it more so, even when it should have created some kind of cognitive dissonance.

To be honest, Tony thought his entire life operated at a pretty much continual state of what-the-fuck, so maybe that wasn’t so weird.

As he watches Steve bend over, wings moving around him perfectly to show his ass off in those thin-fabric lounge pants he wears to bed, certain parts of Tony’s body decide to perk up. Including his tail. Interesting.

Steve turns around, smiling indulgently at him and Tony quickly twitches his tail in closer to himself, trying to protect its honor.

“You know, Tony,” Steve speaks, coming closer to the table where Tony still sits cradling his coffee mug, “six pairs of wings, six tails, and somehow you managed to get both.”

“Fallen angel and all, guess they get the best of both worlds. Plus, we don’t know what else Loki gave Natasha, beyond an ability to be extra ninja-like.”

Steve pokes him, making a face. “We should go flying, later. Take Clint, too; it might make him feel better.”

Tony let his lip curl up. “I suspect someone else may get the pleasure – or displeasure considering his opinion on heights – to go flying with Clint today.”

“Who--? Oh,” Steve says, nodding. “Well, technically, Coulson gets the day off, too, since it’s his job to babysit us.”

“Steven Rogers,” Tony says in mocked shock, “you’re getting to sound more and more like me, and you don’t even have a little devil in you.”

“Not yet today, anyway. And certainly not a little one,” Steve quips, managing to look ridiculously innocent even though Tony knows he isn’t.

That does it. “There will be no business, no sparring, and no team today, I’ve decided. Just you and me. Thank God Pepper runs my company.” He pauses. “Sometimes, I think Loki has good ideas.”

“Tony,” Steve reprimands, moving out of the kitchen and down the hall, coming to a halt and turning to face him when Tony catches his wrist. He lets his black wings bump against Steve’s bigger, white ones.

Tony lifts his hand, letting his fingers slide over gloriously soft, almost iridescent feathers, and if Bruce hadn’t gotten the cat traits, he’d have sworn Steve purred. Also interesting.

“What say we go tarnish up that halo of yours? I’ve got an extra limb I’m dying to try,” and he curls his tail around Steve, barbed end sliding down into the other man's pants, emphasizing his point.

Steve flushes a bright pink that spreads from ears to cheeks, to his collarbone that just peeks out of the hideous plaid shirt he is wearing. But when Tony pulls him down for a kiss, his body is anything but bashful – or angelic. Tony runs his teeth down the side of Steve’s neck, letting the elongated canines barely prick him. Steve shudders against him.

Just another day in the life of an Avenger, he thinks, as he drags Steve across the mansion toward his bedroom.

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, it was the best excuse I was going to get to write some form of Aziraphael!Steve and Crowley!Tony. Because, could they be more perfect?
> 
> Follow and chat with me [on tumblr](http://mf-luder-xf.tumblr.com)!


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